Libidinem
by PlayTheGame
Summary: "Cupiditas ex homine, cupido ex stulto numquam tollitur." A man can be cured of his lust, but a fool can never be cured of his greed. Triple H Stephanie The McMahons Heyman Lesnar Cena Orton Batista Undertaker...pretty much every and any body really.
1. Prologue

All right peeps. This is a story that has not left me alone for well over a couple of months now. I'm a self professed Game of Thrones and history geek and this simply was begging me to write it. It's different for all of us , me included, because I've never written anything like this before but I'm willing to give it a shot and see what happens. I'm a Trips/Steph shipper so obviously they're going to be central to the plot but at the same time, it's an ensemble cast of characters I'm working with here and chances are there'll be something for everybody with this one not to mention multiple story arcs going on at the same time if I can get this out the way it is in my head. Finally, I dedicate this to the most annoying bitch in the world. You know who you are KRISTAN. So, strap in and hopefully you'll enjoy this...

* * *

The halls of Titan Tower were full of shadows as the dark sky descended upon the land. On the outskirts of the city, the poor, shivered and huddled together to fight off the frigid wind and stop it from freezing their weather beaten faces. The capital was a hard place to live, even under the rule of a benevolent King. The peasants populated the very ends of the walls and dominated the western flanks. It was a rarity to see a noble born walking these streets. Not even the common labourer ventured here, unless he strayed a little too far from the Pleasure District or what was commonly referred to among many a drunken citizen as 'Whore Town.' The seedy alleys and dimly lit taverns housed all wonders of illicit and sordid activities. Gambling, excessive drinking, murder, sex. It all happened here and nobody blinked an eye. Law and order was reserved for those who chose to live in the civilised areas of town. Only when the King needed something did he send his Royal Army to investigate the gutter and those who lived in it. An almost invisible line separated the bars and taverns of the Pleasure District from the bars and taverns of more respectable establishments. Prostitution carried out amongst silk and wine rather than straw and beer. Most everybody knew where to go and where not to go, depending on what you were looking for of course.

Further inward and to the south were the Marketlands. Close to the river that ran through and alongside the south western wall, it was always supplied with fresh food and goods from everywhere and was a thriving and lively place to be. Occupied by labourers of all kinds; blacksmiths, tailors, grocers, it was the heartbeat of the entire kingdom and also housed the Royal Navy of which entire fleets of ships would dock in the bay of the river when off duty. To the east lay mostly the residential homes of the wealthy, yet only those not wealthy enough to be called to live inside the Tower itself as part of the Royal Court. Merchants and self made men, barely anyone of noble birth for they all had their vast lands and properties spread throughout the realm. If they lived within the walls it was as members of Court and with that distinction came the privilege of Titan Tower itself.

The huge brick structure dominated the landscape for miles. A clear sign of the King's power and stature. It was a castle within a castle and bore four large circular towers at each corner along with an impressive and impenetrable keep in the centre. It stood tall and fierce and was visible no matter where you stood. King Vincent McMahon ruled from the seat of power at the heart of the Tower. It was his birthright, just like it was his father and his grandfather. The McMahon's were born to rule but their supremacy over all was in jeopardy by a hidden threat, a danger unknown to the King and a pact of secrets and lies which sole purpose lay in the destruction of all who stood in its path. The capital was a hard place to live and not just for the peasants battling the frigid night. In the halls of power, in the land of the Titans, cloak and dagger were just as dangerous as the remorseless weather.

At the very back of the East Tower, a short, rotund man thumped his fists in anger at the tattered book before him. The wooden desk creaked eerily at the impact and his balding hair wobbled upon his shiny head. He was happy but outraged. Happy, elated, at the fact that he had finally found what he had been looking for but purely outraged at how disgusting it was to see. The King, was not the King; his claim to the throne…invalid. And he had the proof staring at him right now. A sick, twisted smile flirted with his lips before they erupted into a full blown grin. All he had to do now was get this information into the hands of the right people and he would finally have the rebellion he had been craving for so long.


	2. A Traitor's Luck

**A/N - Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. The title of this fic means 'lust' by the way, lust in it's many forms though. I just ask that you stick with it. All will be revealed along the way lol. Enjoy...**

* * *

A dark room tinted with reds and pinks. A smoky atmosphere aided by burning incense. Low whimpers and moans penetrating the walls. The stench of sweat and sex in the air. Anybody with the gift of sight and smell could easily identity such an establishment as a pleasure house. In the centre of the room, a tall figure stood lazily. His armour was heavy, but not heavy enough to detract from the blonde on her knees in front of him. Icy blue eyes shut every couple of seconds as her tongue and mouth washed over him greedily. His long fingers threaded through her hair and pushed roughly, the only thing on his mind finding release and finding it quickly. Besides, this girl was nothing but a whore. Her sole purpose in life was to suck dick and get fucked.

Knock. Knock.

"Whaaattttt is that?" the man muttered under his breath. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as the girl began to pick up the pace.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

A pause.

"We have to go."

A longer pause.

BOOM. BOOM.

The door shook from the force of the impact and the man let out a frustrated grunt. He tugged hard on the blonde strands still meshed between his fingers and stared vacantly into the almost black eyes staring back. His strained member slipped from her mouth and for a moment he debated whether or not he should let her finish until…

"NOW!"

"Fuck!" he said aloud this time throwing a hateful glare in the direction of the door. The woman got to her feet and rubbed her shiny mouth with the back of her hand, watching as he hastily tried to place his bulging erection back inside his leather drawstring trousers. It looked to be a tight fit. He had a reputation and today she could say that he more than lived up to it in all aspects. When her master had selected her to pleasure a special guest, she was thrilled yet anxious upon seeing who it was. Randal Orton. Sir, Randal Orton. Son of Lord Robert Orton and member of the Royal Guards. Playboy extraordinaire. Infamous in Whore Town for being well endowed and for being a vicious and cruel client. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't happy for the interruption this morning. Whoever was on the other side of that door most likely saved her from a rough experience. The clanking of metal as he rearranged his various pieces of lower body armour was lost at the loud whoosh that enveloped the room upon the sudden opening of the door. Orton's unhooked black cloak flapped wildly in the limited breeze and was matched by the identical black cloak adorning the other man who stepped into the red hue.

"I'm coming or at least I should have been."

Sir John Cena's sympathetic gaze fell upon the stoic blonde currently shielding her naked breasts from the chill. "You were told not to come here, Randy. If you could go five minutes without sticking your dick in something life would be so much easier."

"Where's the fun in that?" Orton managed a small grin and angrily fixed the clasp of his cloak, belted himself back up and fiddled with the harness of his sword so that it was sitting comfortably against his hip. "Come on then."

An awkward tension fell upon the trio. John caught the gaze of soft but expectant eyes from the bed. She was looking to collect and he knew there wasn't a hope in hell of the other man paying up. On cue, Randy's amused snicker filled the air.

"What? You think you're getting anything from me after that?" He laughed again. "Sorry, rat, but you didn't finish the job."

Waiting a moment for the heavy footsteps to disappear as Randy rounded the corner; John plucked a small bag of coins from his belt and tossed them in the direction of the bed. He was going to speak but thought it was better not to. Instead, he simply nodded his head and shuffled away to join his partner for this patrol on the outside. His nose immediately recoiled at the thick stench in the air. He hated coming to this place, never understood why so many men chose to waste their days, even their lives, in such a dump. And all for what in the end? Some cheap thrills and even cheaper wine.

"Please tell me what was so important that you had to come interrupting _that_ of all things," Randy questioned, he too screwing his face up at the horrible odour. Peasants. If there was one thing he hated in this world it was peasants and all the rotten, disgusting, dirty things that came with them. He was a noble born. He shouldn't have to deal with people so fundamentally below him.

John couldn't help but laugh at the disdain in the other man's face. He knew of his feelings about the lower classes and found it funny that it didn't seem to matter when one of them was lying flat on their back beneath him. With a roll of his blue eyes, he casually gripped the hilt of his sword and began to explain. "I received word from a messenger. The King wants all of the Guards to report to The Tower. Apparently there's going to be some sort of announcement."

"It had better be a good one."

Randy's myopic words hung in the air as the duo joined the rest of the patrol and the black cloaks of the Royal Guards marched their way through the cobbled streets of the Pleasure District and back to their post in The Tower.

* * *

The gentle snap of feet upon twigs broke the eerie silence surrounding him. He gripped his sword tightly, ready to swing at the slightest movement. His eyes looked everywhere; the broken walls, caved in ceiling, the ruins of this building so desolate and destroyed. Tree vines and branches wrapped themselves around everything in sight, squeezing the life out of all in their path. This place was barren and dead. Nobody would ever think to come here. Nobody who wasn't running away for one reason or another. The last two months he had spent tracking this target. Through the city of Titan, outside the walls to the surrounding forest and now into neighbouring lands. He wasn't in the capital anymore. Just outside it. These hills and valleys were Cena country, presided over by the Great Lord Cena himself. But the Cena's were friends of the King and loyal to the death. Anybody on the run would find no comfort here yet it was a smart place to hide. Too close to raise any suspicion yet just far enough away to make a run for it if trouble presented itself. Well here it was, trouble, in the form of one hundred men strong bearing the King's banner and with no intentions of letting anybody or anything slip through the cracks.

A bird squawked overhead in the dim light of the dawn. The slivers of early morning sunlight caught off the shields and spears surrounding the derelict building. His breathing was steady, his posture alert. He knew there was no way his target could escape, not with the place surrounded the way it was. A sudden rustle of falling debris in the corner. He snapped his head instantly and that's when he saw it, the makings of what appeared to be a shoe poking out from the tiniest gap in the rubble. Edging closer, he held his sword directly in front of him and cleared his throat.

"Show yourself and you will not die today, traitor."

Nothing.

With a roll of his hazel eyes, he let out a puff of air and planted his feet. "Have it your way then." The sole of his large foot began kicking against the mortar, slowly but surely pressing the bricks and debris closer to the opposite wall upon which it rested. One final kick.

"Stop! Stop! Please stop, I can't….breathe…"

"Step forward and get on your knees."

"Yes, yes, sir. Oh thank you." Squeezing himself from the gap, the man fell with a heavy thud to the cold hard floor. His frightened eyes glanced upwards and he swallowed with fear when he realized who had been hunting him; the black cloaks of the Royal Guards and not just any Royal Guard. The man before him was Sir Paul Levesque, a fearless Knight who many believed was being groomed to take over command of the Guards when its current commander, Lord Calloway, could no longer carry out his duties. With a litany of Guards horror stories running through his head, he immediately assumed the position asked of him and vowed to do whatever it took to save his life. Perhaps Sir Levesque would take mercy on him and keep to his word by letting him live.

Paul stared down at the snivelling coward of a man literally begging for his life before him and reluctantly dropped his sword. He wouldn't kill him, no, he'd let the dungeons deal with that. All he wanted was the information this man possessed so he could finish this mission and get back home although he was somewhat surprised that this man had evaded him for two months straight. He must have had help from somebody. There was no way this bumbling fool could outrun a Guard squadron for that long.

"Hands behind your back," Paul ordered, motioning with his hand and upon request, four armoured men marched into the room. He stood back and watched as they went to work, tying the traitor's hands with rope, shackling his feet with chains and fastening a hood over his head. His terrified screams and shouts only provoked their anger and after receiving a nod of approval from their Captain, the soldiers quickly shut him up by promptly knocking him out. "Take him to the cart and make sure he stays quiet. I don't want to listen to him crying the whole way back."

"Thank the Gods."

Paul smirked at the response of his First Man and with one final sweep over the area, headed back outside to join with his troops. The men immediately stood to attention upon his appearance and watched as their prisoner was secured in the cell cart in the middle of the brigade. He would be well guarded on their journey back on the off chance that they were attacked. But nobody would be stupid enough to attack the King's men, at least not in these woods. "Let's go home," Paul called out to a roaring cry of approval. The steady march of feet and hooves on the ground made the leaves on the trees tremble and shake in their wake. A week's march and they would be back safe and sound within the walls of Titan.


	3. Calm Before The Storm

**A/N - So this is kind of short but I want to introduce the characters/story arcs slowly and with focus so you're just going to have to deal with it lol. Sorry! I hope to be able to start delving into the plot pretty soon though so it shouldn't be too long. Enjoy...**

* * *

"I don't know that I like this, Vince. As a matter of fact, I hate it."

"Trust me when I say that I don't like it either. She's my daughter, Linda. My _daughter_. And I'm using her like some pawn in a heartless game. It weighs on my shoulders like the walls of Titan itself. I don't want to do this….I just don't have a choice in the matter."

King Vincent McMahon ignored the loud scoff of his wife and Queen. His body shook at the abrupt slamming shut of the wooden door to their chambers. He knew this was coming and he couldn't blame Linda for reacting this way either. Soon he would sign the papers, effectively promising his daughter's hand in marriage to a foreign King. It made him sick to his stomach but there was nothing else he could do. The Batistans were growing more aggressive every year. The only way to bring peace and avoid an all out war was to bring both kingdoms together and not through a treaty but by marriage. When his son had initially suggested it, he had felt like slapping him for being so cruel. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Kings and Royal Families married each other off all the time. It was what the nobility did to ensure the purity of their class. But no matter how many times he told himself that, he still couldn't shake the empty feeling that clutched his heart every time he pictured those beautiful baby blue eyes looking at him for the last time. It wounded him deeper than anybody would ever know.

"Gods I pray to you," he began sincerely as he got to his knees on the wooden floor. "I kneel before you not as a King but as a father and ask you to bless this marriage and my decision to allow it to happen. For the love of my country and my family, I ask that you bless this marriage…"

* * *

The sickening crack of a whip on bare skin ferried the enormous ship across the murky blue water of Titan Bay. An army of weather beaten and whip scarred men rowed in precise unison, their movements easily belying of much practice and skill. They wore nothing but rags, their faces solemn. Slaves. Nobody even flinched if the whip broke the skin on their back. They were that used to it by now it had become second nature.

Standing on the upper deck of the impressive and fierce golden encrusted vessel, King David Batista's cold eyes stared out into the distance. They were almost at the walls of the great city itself. Titan. He had heard stories of this place as a boy. His father, the then King, spoke fondly of his memories here. He had something of a friendly relationship with King McMahon. But he wasn't his father and he had no such relationship. He had no fondness for this place, no fondness for its King and no fondness for its people. He had fully expected a rejection to his proposal for marriage which would have suited him just fine. War was coming in the end. It always was. People just liked to hide behind their fear. Not him. He embraced his fear, encouraged it, because it was only when you overcame your fears that you could say you had none. And he didn't. If he wanted to step off this boat, walk into the palace and sink his blade into King Vince he could and he wouldn't fear the consequences. He had thought about it several times on this journey across the sea to get here. But the deal was just too sweet to turn down. Once he signed the papers, the Princess would belong to him.

Tales of her beauty had reached even his kingdom. She was not yet married and any man who had considered himself worthy had made an offer to the King only to get rejected in the end. An amused chuckle shook his large frame as he thought about it. So many noble men offering their hand, their lands, their titles, anything of value to their name to wed the dear Princess and here he was, on his way to seal the sweetest of deals and all because of a joke. He never expected this to happen. In fact, he had made the most ridiculous proposal he could think of in order to ensure a refusal which would eventually be the grounds for an invasion. But it had been accepted and that meant the old King was desperate. Any man willing to sacrifice his own daughter for the good of his kingdom was desperate. So he decided to come to Titan, to take the Princess, marry her and then he would invade and conquer just because he could.

The dark water of Titan Bay shimmered and flowed beneath the golden ships en route to the docks. It was quiet except for the slosh of water on wood. Quiet. Peaceful. Calm. The calm before the storm.


	4. Keep Your Enemies Closer

_**A/N - Sorry for the wait on this one but you can thank bitch for always demanding I update this. Once again, slow and steady wins the race although I do think things kind of picked up a little in this one...but maybe that's just me lol. Enjoy...**_

* * *

Sunlight streamed in through the impressive tall windows of the Great Hall, bouncing off armour and glinting against diamond encrusted dresses. The Royal Court was on full display, all except the Royal Family itself. With the sudden squawk of the trumpeters, the congregation immediately stood to attention awaiting the arrival of their King. Vince McMahon's regal figure emerged from behind a heavily armoured guard followed by the Queen, then the Prince and finally the fair Princess. Hushed murmurs enveloped the silence upon her arrival for nobody could quite believe that she was to marry and a foreigner at that.

"All the nobles in the land and none of us are good enough for the precious Princess."

John Cena's blue eyes stared straight ahead as the man beside him continued to spit his words angrily.

"She's going to marry a Batistan? What a load of horse shit."

Cena was about to tell the ever eloquent Sir Orton to shut his trap and stop buying into castle gossip when he felt the other man immediately straighten up and grow tense. Lord Calloway was practically boring a hole through them both, effectively telling them to shut the hell up. Great. Once again Orton was getting him in shit. Every day he begged the Gods to pair him with a new patrol partner or even better, to start a fucking war so he actually had something to do. He was a soldier. He shouldn't be babysitting the likes of Orton while he ran around fucking everything in a skirt in Whore Town. Rolling his eyes, Cena focused his attention to the front of the Hall where the Royal Family had just taken their seats.

"It is the King's pleasure to announce a royal wedding. Princess Stephanie will be wed to King David Batista, uniting our kingdoms and bringing peace to our lands," bellowed Lord Patterson, the King's most trusted advisor. "The King cordially invites all noble houses to this most joyous of occasions. There will be a week of celebrations to commemorate the end of hostilities and the new beginning this marriage brings forth. Hail to the King and hail to the Princess!"

His final words echoed loudly around the room and were repeated by everyone in attendance before a dull chatter broke out. King Vince's eyes scanned specific people curiously as the muted rumble turned into frenetic conversation. The Royal Guards at the back of the room expectedly showed no reaction. They were soldiers, not gossiping ladies of court apparently like everybody else. To his left stood the noble House of Orton. Lord Robert's steely gaze gave nothing away. He had always been at the King's aid but only when called upon and only offering what was necessary to get the job done. Vince valued his support but always felt suspicious of his loyalties. Were a rebellion ever to occur he simply couldn't be sure that the Orton's would take his banner and that unnerved him.

Next to the suspicious House of Orton stood the seditious House of Lesnar. The King's lip snarled in disgust. This House whispered treasonously against him and he had no doubt in his mind that they acted treasonously too. That's why he had sent a troop of Royal Guards on expedition. He had information that members of the Lesnar Household were plotting against him. The prime suspect: Paul Heyman; a common man who schemed and wormed his way to the top of the second most powerful family in the Kingdom. Lord Lesnar had passed many years ago leaving command of his House and his Bannerman to his beastly son. Brock Lesnar was Lord of the House now but only on the official scrolls for Vince was certain that the man pulling the strings was Heyman. He was certain of it and had made a personal vow to rid his Kingdom of the vile vermin as soon as he had actual proof of treasonous plots. Vince prided himself on being an honourable man and a virtuous King. He would never condemn a man to death without first proving his guilt no matter how badly he wanted to. Heyman was a snake, a dangerous and highly venomous snake that would sink his poison deep into the very heart of this land if given the opportunity. The King was determined to ensure that such a thing never happened.

"Silence!"

Lord Patterson's voice boomed bringing about an abrupt halt to the chattering of the Court.

King Vince took his cue and stood tall above the nobles of his Kingdom, holding out his hand as he spoke. "King Batista is currently en route to Titan. His ships will dock within the day. We will host him as guests of our city and I personally will welcome him to my family. A banquet will take place this evening in his honour. Go now and prepare yourselves for an evening of festivities!"

Once again animated chatter erupted at the King's news. A banquet! This was more than enough to get everybody talking, not to mention the arrival of the Batistan's.

As his father and mother walked ahead of him and exited the Great Hall, Prince Shane McMahon subtly nodded his head at a short figure as he passed through the large oak door at the left of the hall. Everything was going perfectly to plan. It really shouldn't be this easy.

* * *

Lord Calloway waited for the room to clear before addressing his men. They were to be on full alert in case the Batistan's tried anything. Truth be told, he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them. He had been to their lands, had witnessed their barbaric customs and had seen their army in action. They were a savage people and he couldn't quite understand why his King had chosen to send his daughter into the lion's den. Every nobleman in the land had offered their hand in marriage to Princess Stephanie yet time after time the rejection had come through. In the back of his mind something just wasn't adding up. When he got the chance he decided that he would simply ask the King. He was held high enough in the King's favour to question his motives and actions. In layman's terms they might be considered friends and it was a friendship forged on the battlefield. They had fought side by side until Vince had ascended to the throne. Then they became King and subject and Vince made him head of the Royal Guards, the most prestigious wing of the Royal Army. Only the best of the best were fit enough to serve under his command…them and whatever higher up demanded his son be part of such an esteemed order.

"This banquet is of no concern to us. We are responsible for the protection and welfare of this realm, its people and our King. Every noble born currently within these walls will be in attendance this evening and let me make this utmost clear, I do not trust the Batistan's and I want every one of you to treat them with the same disdain. We will be respectful but if any man witnesses a suspicious act or hears a treasonous remark they must report immediately. We will protect the Royal Family at all costs. If the Batistan's think they can march on to our soil and even contemplate an attack we will kill them before they even draw their swords. Is this understood?"

Lord Calloway's fiery green eyes flared with adrenaline as the loud roar of agreement met his ears. His men would be prepared whether this was the utmost of friendly meetings or it descended into chaos. Nothing would happen to the King under his watch. He'd die before it did.

* * *

In the cover of thick trees and with the sound of the river flowing freely by her side, Princess Stephanie McMahon stared ahead with a heavy heart. She had requested to be left in peace before making her way to the one place that made her feel happy, where she could be totally alone with her thoughts. The tiny cabin was located a stone's throw from her chamber windows. Situated just inside the forest at the back of the outermost keep of the castle, it was secluded and quiet. Nobody came here; she didn't think that anybody else even knew it existed, all but one. Because somebody else knew, somebody who she desperately wanted to give her heart to but it wasn't hers to give. She was betrothed to King Batista and with the news the world ceased to exist because her world, the world she knew, came to a crashing halt. Everything had changed. Tonight she would meet this foreign King and if she met his expectations, a marriage would be agreed upon and he would go back home to leave enough time for wedding preparations. In a few months time she would leave her family, Titan, her kingdom and become the wife of a man she felt absolutely nothing for.

A quiet sob broke the tranquillity of the soft water lapping against the rocks of the river. She was utterly heartbroken. All her life her father had promised he would never let her marry a man she didn't know. He had promised to let her find a suitor she felt comfortable with before agreeing to give her hand in marriage. Now he was sending her across the water to an unknown land and an unknown King. She begged the God's to provide her with an answer. Why had he suddenly gone back on his word and agreed to such extreme measures? There had to be a reason. Her bare feet absently kicked at the dirt below. At that moment she felt like rolling in it. She wanted to be just like the dirt, anonymous and common. She didn't want to be a Princess. She wanted to be free to live her life the way she chose. Most of all, she wanted to be the one to decide her fate. She wanted to be free to give her heart to the man she loved because it wasn't King Batista and it never would be.


End file.
